~ Writing my way to harmony within and without

Tag Archives: Writing365

At some point along my day today, it came to me, a revelation. I have been wondering why I wanted to write on this blog everyday. I said some things when I embarked on this journey, that I believed then to be the whole truth, but now a bit more of the fog has lifted and I see a little bit more.

It so happens that I internalised the idea that I was too discreet, that I didn’t reveal myself enough and that this was somehow a ‘bad’ thing. So I wanted to have the ‘courage’ to write about myself, to undo some fears around it. I have done it for 89 days now and there are days when I have loved it and there are days when I felt like I had put my innermost thoughts on a display window. There are days when the writing flowed naturally (very, very few) and days when I stared at my screen for 2 hours and wrote 6 lines of pretty unoriginal poetry. But through it all has come a revelation, I am discreet as a person, it is not comfortable for me to write publicly as if I was journaling. I am way more honest when I journal in a notebook. It helps me in understanding myself quite a lot. And that is primarily why I write, to understand myself. Through this blogging practice I have practically given up journaling just because of time constraints and how much writing I can actually do in a day.

My beautiful pens and notebooks miss me and I miss them sorely. But this writing practice gave me the realisation that I can write everyday if I wish to, but I will not produce the same quality of writing and that’s normal. And I also realised that I do not want to put writing that I don’t feel satisfied with out there. I don’t. I want to be able to rework texts for days, ponder over them, reread them several times and then post them when I feel satisfied. Writing everyday also meant that I began to put out there a lot more than I was absorbing. I might not have had time to read, but I had to write and this I am not comfortable doing. It feels superficial for me in the way my writing functions.

When I started thinking about this on the airplane ride earlier today I wanted to stop at 100 posts. I thought its a round number, it gives me 12 more days, in case I want to change my mind. But I have learnt that the heart knows. And today my heart knows that I want to stop, So here I am ending this on day 89, as good a day as any. I am looking forward to working more on some of the short story ideas I had in this process. And I will of course continue writing on the blog, better worked articles which come from more reflection than I am capable of in a day.

Thank you for accompanying me on this journey. Your observation and appreciation were valuable and I hope you will continue to come to this space for more.

Accept that you don’t get it! You don’t get it. You want an innocent heart, innocent faith you say? I was groped on the street when I was 12 for the first time, touched and mastrubated upon by several men on buses for a good part of my teenage years and young adulthood. Before I had any experience of a healthy sexual relationship, I learnt to clench my fist, grit my teeth and bear it, men forcing themselves on me. Before I learned to open up, relax and enjoy.

I am sorry if it seems unfair that all men are judged by these experiences. Its self-preservation. It helps me to expect it and be prepared. Of course I know all men are not going abuse their power over me, I certainly hope so. But so many have. So many, even the good ones, the kind ones. Because self-awareness, looking within, unraveling privilege is hard work, to be done every day, it is accepting that you have a shit reputation and a long history of entitlement and privilege and that you need to prove yourself each time and that’s just how it goes.

The fact that I still have faith in anything at all is a wonder. So don’t you dare call me angry! I am tired of spending energy every single day on protecting myself, in every space, every relationship, clothing myself, unclothing myself, building boundaries, not sending the ‘wrong’ message for your comfort.

Consent is hard. Consent means there will be frustrations, there will be times when you want to real bad and you can’t. That’s how it is, because it involves another human being. But if you prepare yourself for a possible ‘No’ from the beginning then the frustration will be more acceptable. But why don’t you expect that ‘No’ could be an answer? That’s entitlement, being used to always getting what you want. You think we don’t have enough times when we consent for reasons other than our own desire? Of course you don’t think, because have you ever done it? Had to do it?

Consent is enthusiasm, it is mutually shared pleasure. If you are not sure, ask again and be ready to really listen, respectfully. It is not you getting what you want and making yourself feel good by thinking you are giving her pleasure, so she has to fake an orgasm to soothe your ego. If she doesn’t have an orgasm, it’s probably because you need to learn a thing or two about female sexuality bro!

Before you get defensive, reflect. Before you say #NotALLMen think #YesAllWomen. Ask, listen, learn. Shut the judgement. If you make a mistake, apologise and start over again and again. Nobody expects you to get it all right away! Learn, question, challenge yourself. Ask women. Don’t assume your way is the only way. You don’t realize the level of entitlement it takes, to see vulnerability, care and tenderness and abuse it, accuse it, dismiss it.

I want to see men who are brutal with themselves, with their privilege, who look within and untangle the entitlement with tenacity. Transformation is painful, but it has to be done. I want men who question themselves incessantly like I see women around me doing every day, men who apologise with grace because they hurt you whether they thought it would hurt you or not is irrelevant. I want compassionate men, vulnerable men, men who cry when they see others in pain, men who care selflessly, men who love without assurance of love, or sex, or care or company.

Before I get started, this is a rant meaning I am annoyed, I am not taking into consideration exceptions and the ‘other’ side of all this! And I know the ‘other’ side, but I just want to rant! Nevertheless all that I am saying is true in some (I suspect most) cases anyway.
Facts first: I work for a humanitarian organisation. The organisation works with refugees, people affected by conflict and disasters and people living in extreme poverty. I am a mental health professional.

Here’s some things we ‘humanitarians’ do:

We think ‘dignity’ is made of underwear, mentrual pads, torch lights and whistles and that we can wrap it in a towel, pack it in a bucket and distribute it. We call them ‘dignity kits’.

We think gender mainstreaming means reaching a higher percentage of women and girls through our activities. We will still work with adolescent girls with the sole objective of improving their maternal health.

When we do ‘life skills’ training for adolescents, we will talk only about cisgender and heterosexual identities because we will talk queer and non-binary gender identities when we are working on those aspects (mostly in developed countries). And then preach to the world about diversity.

When we say ‘protection’ we mean reaching the most vulnerable Socio-economic groups through our activities. We measure this by ‘disaggregated’ data on the different vulnerable groups we reached.

We would like to think that what we do is better than nothing, that we are saving lives and we are but we could be doing so much more. My problem is not that we do all of the above, my problem is that we so often stop there, we are not ambitious enough, idealistic enough. We are sometimes too ‘practical’, satisfied with lower standards than we would accept for ourselves, our lives. There is a lot we do not control, but there is a lot we don’t even aspire to affect and that bothers me.

And I know many people who are trying to change all of this from the inside, I have great respect for them and I wish them the resilience to keep at it, to keep raising their voices in cluster and advocacy meetings despite the number of people rolling their eyes at the table. I wish them strength on days like these when you feel useless, worthless, you want to give it all up cause what difference does it make? But somebody heard you and somebody will repeat it at another cluster meeting and another coordination meeting and thus goes the ripple of the butterfly effect. I hope. In any case its these people who keep me going.

Sometimes, I tell myself, I am one of these people trying to change it from the inside, but its only so I can sleep in the night. I don’t have the anatomy for it, I suppose. And thus the eternal dilemma- to be or not to be a ‘humanitarian’?